


i'm not the kind of girl you take home to your mama now (i tell you no lies)

by moongirls



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Era, F/M, Flirting, Morally Ambiguous Reader, Racially Ambigous Reader, Sexual Humor, Smuggling, because poc actually exist in the alagaesia in my head, good lord this reader is so. much., its 3:30am and im tired so here have this fic bc i reread eragon while i was Lonely, me? writing the first and only eragon/reader fic on ao3? its more likely than u think, reader is. the definition of horny on main tbh., uh i have no idea what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-08 05:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15236577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moongirls/pseuds/moongirls
Summary: “Whoareyou?” he hisses, his brown eyes intense. “What do you want from me?”“Oh, sweetheart, can’t you tell?” you murmur.(or: a collection of snapshots)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ugh i'm so tired but basically i reread eragon, remembered why i loved the inheritance cycle, remembered my enormous crush on eragon, and voila! here, have a weird fic with a weird reader and a weird ambiguous ending.
> 
> if i ever have the energy, i might write more of this, because i love this reader and SHE COMES WITH LORE. yeah basically she has a whole backstory and shit and i DO have a rough idea of what would happen after this (LOVE. THATS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN. LOVE AND FIGHTING AND POLITICS AND CRIME), but it would be long and i really don't want to commit to writing something i can't finish, bc that's a whole ass canon divergent mess.
> 
> and just so y'all know, no, the reader's name _isn't_ belladonna. that's a code name/a joke between her friends (part of her LORE). her real name is whatever you want it to be, and if i ever end up writing more of this, yes, eragon will get to learn her real name. ok this is long and i'm rambling but have fun, good night, don't stay up until 3:30 like i am
> 
> oh yeah, the title is from _take a byte_ by janelle monae, because im a bisexual bitch and i love her

Teirm always smells like piss and fish. Although you’ve spent much of your life in the city, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the stench.

You wrinkle your nose at it now, as you stop in front of a large warehouse. You frown at the lack of a sign in front, wondering if this is truly the right place. The deserted street around you is silent, until an unfamiliar voice calls out.

“Excuse me, do you know where Jeod lives? The merchant?”

You spin around to see that the voice belongs to a boy your age, with brown hair and a sweet, bashful demeanor. He smiles at you sheepishly, evidently embarrassed to be lost in the city after dark.

“I might,” you say, grinning at him. “What will I get if I tell you?”

His eyes widen adorably with surprise and not a little wariness.

“I — I don’t have much coin with me,” he says, reaching into his pocket anyway. “I can only pay you —”

“Relax, darling.” You cut him off with a laugh. “I was joking, you don’t have to pay me anything. And I’ve got to deliver some goods in the merchant district anyway. I’ll walk you there.”

“Oh! Alright,” he says. “Hold on, what are you doing?”

You flash him another sharp-toothed grin as you step into the building.

“I told you I was delivering goods, love,” you call out from the dark warehouse. “I can hardly do that without said goods.”

You quickly scan the floor for the shipment you need, easily locating it behind the door, exactly where it’s supposed to be. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you step outside and start walking without waiting for your new companion.

He easily catches up to you, silently walking beside you. You glance over at him to see that he’s got his hands in his pockets and a faraway expression on his face. _This won’t do at all,_ you muse to yourself.

“Sweetheart, I invited you on this little excursion for the pleasure of your company, and I’m not getting much pleasure at the moment,” you say, breaking the silence.

To your delight, the boy blushes, eyes darting to your face and then away.

“Sorry,” he says, another embarrassed smile spreading across his face. “I’m Eragon. What’s your name?”

You laugh, and answer, “Lovely as your name is, I think I’ll keep calling you pet names. And as for me, you can call me Belladonna.”

His face grows even redder at that, but he stubbornly continues to look at you as he says, “That’s not your real name, is it?”

“It’s the realest one you’ll get, handsome,” you say with a smirk, noting that he’s now unable to look you in the eyes. _God, his innocence is adorable._

As you turn into a cramped alley, his face takes on that same distant look, as though he’s speaking to someone in his own head.

“Watch out, love,” you say, throwing him yet another easy smile. “Gotta pay attention when you’re out in the big, bad city after dark.”

Eragon looks up at that, frowning.

“What does that mean?” he asks, suddenly wary.

God, now he probably thinks you’re planning to rob him or something similarly boring.

Widening your ever-present smirk into a predatory smile, you say only, “I’m just worried for my safety out here after dark, when my handsome protector isn’t looking out for us.”

You offer up a fake pout after your words, now really and truly trying to bait him into _some_ action.

He tenses at the insincerity of your response and straightens up, now entirely present. _Interesting,_ you think. You hadn’t pegged him for a warrior, but that’s exactly what his demeanor is telling you he is.

You decide to push a little further, to try and see more of this farmboy fighter. “So, darling, how will you protect me? Will you fight off any robbers with your fists? Or will you wield a sword, like a hero from the old tales? Oh, will you —”

That’s all you get out before Eragon turns to face you, backing you into the wall. You certainly hadn’t anticipated that he might actually get physical, but it _is_ entirely your fault, you suppose.

“Who _are_ you?” he hisses, his brown eyes intense. “What do you want from me?” His hands press against the wall, caging you in.

 _Lord, he really is oblivious_.

You take the initiative and step forward, closing the gap between your bodies.

“Oh, sweetheart, can’t you tell?” you murmur, letting your lips drift close to his. You’re having the time of your life, but you don’t want to scare him _too_ much. Eragon will have to kiss you — you won’t make that final move for him.

You watch his eyes half close and feel his breath brushing your lips. _This is it,_ you think giddily. _This night won’t be a total waste after all._ His hands move from the wall to hover at your shoulders, as if he’s afraid to touch you, but he’s finally understanding, finally giving in, finally inclining his head and —

His eyes snap open as though someone has shouted his name. His hands grab your shoulders and shove you backwards into the wall. You gasp, the first real reaction he’s gotten out of you tonight. _Fuck,_ you think distantly. _He’s got a fucking knife._

The point of his knife grazes your neck, and you lean your head against the wall to try to create some distance from it. You quickly try to reconstruct your bored mask, but he’s taken you by surprise and you’re honestly still a little shocked.

“ _What_ do you _want?”_ Eragon’s hold of the knife is steady, and the point never wavers from your trachea.

You swallow, and answer as honestly as possible.

“I think that should be fairly obvious, seeing as I just tried to kiss you.”

His eyes widen at that, and really, you’d think he’d stop being surprised at some point, right?

“That was it? You didn’t want to —” He abruptly cuts himself off, like he’s just been reprimanded.

“Didn’t want to what, darling? Didn’t want to take you home for a tumble? Because I can assure you I wouldn’t have objected,” you say, donning your smirk once more. He seems to understand your intentions now, and you think you can risk a little backtalk.

Eragon flushes again at that, but his gaze remains steady on your face. “You really just wanted to — you know?”

Your smirk turns into a real smile at that, because he really is the sweetest thing. “You’re allowed to say it, darling. Yes, I just wanted to fuck you.”

He finally relaxes, lowering the knife, and because you’ve never known when to stop, you continue talking.

“Pity you weren’t interested. Would have made a good night for both of us,” you say, adding a salacious wink at the end of your sentence just to see what he’ll do.

You’re rather disappointed when he shoves the knife back into his belt and looks away from you. “Look, can you just take me where I need to go?” he asks, and now you do feel genuinely sorry, because you hadn’t meant to worry him that much. Mostly, though, you feel annoyed, because you _certainly_ hadn’t meant to make him pull a knife on you.

“Aren’t we touchy?” you say, pushing his limits a little further. “Yes, I’ll walk you there, and no more unwanted advances, I promise.”

Eragon turns away and continues down the alley without a word. Holding your bag to your chest, you jog to catch up with him. He’s clearly not interested in further conversation, so for once in your life you take the hint and stay quiet as you lead him through Teirm’s maze-like streets. Around you, the squat, dirty buildings give way to imposing, oppressively clean homes for the wealthy of the city.

Although your delivery is on the way, you continue past it to walk Eragon to Jeod’s house. You spare a glance for the shop next door; you’ve heard of Angela the herbalist, and you wonder for a moment how much one of her readings would cost.

Eragon turns away from you to make his way into the house. He doesn’t even look at you as the door opens, and that _really_ sets you off. In all honesty, the worst you did was flirt a little — it’s hardly your fault he can’t take a hint!

“Hey!” you call, your only goal to embarrass him in front of the house’s residents, whatever his relation to them. “Next time you want a good time, you know where to find me, _darling!"_

The back of his neck turns red at that, and you finally feel your razorlike smile snap back into place. The woman in front of him, who appears to be the lady of the house, looks positively shocked at your words, and you throw her a wink just for the hell of it.

Eragon finally looks up at you, and to your surprise, there’s the barest hint of a smile on his face.

“Goodnight,” he says, before shutting the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you must know, I came here to tell you that I’m very bored.”
> 
> Saphira doesn’t hide her amusement at that, adding _I’m equally bored, little one._
> 
> Gods, why are all of the females around him crazy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is super short but i love writing this reader (she's so FUN) and i love writing flustered eragon, so i just sort of threw this together (it's not even edited, this is literally just me messing around)
> 
> and uh yeah eragon does have a crush on arya here, but it's definitely puppy love and not reciprocated (one of the things that really bugged me in the books was how arya suddenly seemed to reciprocate some of eragon's feelings for her in inheritance, it felt very entitled-nice-guy-ish in the way that it was written and i feel like the better character development would have been to sort of stop after eragon learns arya's true name and realizes that she's not the idealized woman he's built up in his head). also reader is uh a hint jealous here, but she's not about to _do_ anything, because she's on a strict no-emotions diet
> 
> skldfjalk im rambling but i just love these 2 fools

When Eragon returns from Tronjheim’s library, he’s unsurprised to see that he has company. She’s sitting with one foot braced against the table and the other planted solidly on the ground, all the while turning a knife over in her hands. Knowing her, she must have spent several minutes trying to find the ideal pose in which to greet him.

“You have your own room, you know,” he says as he unbuckles Zar’roc from his belt, trying for at least some semblance of annoyance.

“You’re oddly calm for someone who might be killed any second,” she says, tilting her head and lifting the knife a little higher. “I’m a criminal, remember? And now I’m armed and in your rooms all alone.”

Eragon tries not to roll his eyes at that, but this routine is wearing old. In the back of his head, he can feel Saphira’s growing amusement; he pushes it aside in favor of maintaining his disinterested demeanor.

“You’ve had so many opportunities to kill me,” he retorts, sitting down across from her. “If you haven’t succeeded yet, you must not be very good at it.”

She snorts at that, which is at least better than the painfully insincere and performative laugh that she loves to send his way.

“Alright, darling, claws away,” she drawls, raising her hands in surrender. “If you must know, I came here to tell you that I’m very bored.”

Saphira doesn’t hide her amusement at that, adding  _ I’m equally bored, little one. _

Gods, why are all of the females around him crazy?

“Why don’t you try doing something useful for a change?” Eragon asks, rolling his eyes.

“Do something useful? You mean like all the useful things _you've_  been doing , like spending all your time following the poor elf girl around?”

“I don’t  _ follow _ Arya! I just— I just like to talk to her!” Eragon snaps, feeling his ears reddening at that. 

_ You do follow her, Eragon, _ adds a snide voice in his head.  _ It’s rather sad. _

_ Shut up, Saphira! _

Now well and truly blushing, Eragon sharply pushes his chair away from the table and stands. Across the table, [y/n] snickers at his obvious agitation.

“Relax, love. I’m sure Lady Pointy-Ears thinks your ardor is sweet,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “ _ I _ think it’s adorable, or at least somewhat amusing.”

Groaning, Eragon turns away from her to begin pacing, anxiety flooding his limbs at the prospect of even  _ speaking _ about Arya.

“It’s not that— Look, can we  _ please _ stop talking about Arya?”

She laughs aloud at that, and Eragon can sense that halfway across Tronjheim, Saphira is doing the same.

“Why stop talking about her? This is exactly what I came here for — you’re doing a wonderful job of relieving my boredom.”

Eragon turns to face her, pleading with his face to stop the conversation.

“Alright, alright,” she says, throwing her hands up. “How could I say no to that handsome face?”

Eragon snorts at that, wondering if she’ll ever cease to flirt with anything that can breathe.

“If you’re so bored, why not come train with me tomorrow, since you’re so opposed to doing  _ useful _ work?” 

“That a challenge, darling?” She stands up, throwing an easy smile his way, grabs her knife from the table, and turns to leave. “Consider it accepted.”

_ Finally, something interesting. I hope she doesn’t walk all over you, little one. _

_ Saphira, shut up! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please come yell with me on [tumblr](http://brandybuckmerry.tumblr.com)


End file.
